


Twelve Christmases

by ficdirectory



Category: The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Disuphere Universe, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2020-01-04 12:37:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18343844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficdirectory/pseuds/ficdirectory
Summary: Isaac Martin (a.k.a. “Jacob”) was the second known victim of Jesus’s kidnapper.  Get in a time machine and get ready to get to know who Isaac was and what mattered to him over a lifetime.





	1. Chapter 1

**_CHRISTMAS #1_ **

 

**_Friday, December 25, 1998_ **

 

Allie Martin doesn’t quite know how to do this.  She has never been the parent of a 7-month-old at Christmas before, and Ike seems determined to army-crawl his way to the tree and tear into all the presents he can reach.

 

She supposes she should be glad he’s finally outgrown the colic that had plagued him for months after he got home from the hospital.  Go figure, that without the chronic belly pain, Isaac Quinn is one happy baby, and pretty easy going, too.

 

Allie can’t help but thinking they lucked out.  Most first babies are high-strung, but Isaac’s just happy.

 

Seth, her high school sweetheart, laughs.  “Hon’, I think we should’ve gated the thing.  He’s definitely gonna eat the pine needles.”

 

“Oh, shut up,” Allie giggles, “He is not!”  She grabs fat baby Isaac and kisses his cheeks.  He screeches to be put down, incensed that she derailed his mission to explore all the brightly wrapped things under the tree.

 

They distract him for about twenty minutes with baby cereal and a jar of baby pears.  Then, Isaac is done with food and demands to get down, “Dadadada!”

 

“Down?” Allie asks, taking Ike out of the high chair.  “Seth, I’m gonna get him dressed.”

 

“He’s gonna hate you.  He hates clothes.”

 

“I know, but he has that cute shirt with the reindeer that pops out of the zipper pocket he has to try on that Mom got him.  You wanna wear that, don’t you, Isaac? Don’t you?” Allie asks, bouncing her hefty 20-pound butterball of a baby on her hip.

 

Isaac blows a raspberry.

 

After wrestling him into the little red sweatsuit and listening to him scream at the top of his lungs as if Allie were torturing him, she calls, “Seth, are you ready for him out there?  I think now might be a good time for presents…”

 

“Yeah, I agree.  Send him out,” Seth calls.  “Ike, come see Daddy!”

 

Isaac, who, not ten seconds ago, hated everything ever, now shows three teeth in a wide grin.

 

Allie puts him down on the hardwood floor.  “There you go. Go find Daddy! Go find him!”

 

But baby Isaac will not be deterred.  He maneuvers right past Seth in the living room, making a roly-poly beeline for the presents under the tree.

 

Allie tries to distract him, unwrapping a Tickle-Me-Elmo that Seth had almost been trampled for.  (Ike starts crying when Elmo moves and talks, towering over crawling Isaac.)

 

“Oh, it’s okay…” Seth reassures, scooping Isaac up.  “Daddy’s got you. He won’t let that mean Elmo get you.”

 

Allie finally gives in and baby gates the tree, feeling like the biggest Grinch ever.  Thankfully, Seth is opening up a giant tool set...and as enthralled as he is by that? Isaac is living for the humongous box it arrived in.

 

Isaac spends hours playing in that thing.  He hides in it, playing peekaboo with them.  His adorable hazel eyes crinkling with laughter whenever Seth surprises him.

 

By naptime, Ike’s crashed inside it.

 

And Allie and Seth sit on the couch, their feet propped up among the major after-Christmas disaster - wrapping paper and boxes and toys everywhere.

 

“Should’ve just gotten him a box,” Seth murmurs.

 

“I know, right?” Allie nods, laughing.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #2_ **

 

**_Saturday, December 25, 1999_ **

 

“Isaac?  Where are you?” Allie calls.  She knows he can’t have gone far.  Even though he’s been walking since he was a year old, he generally sticks close by either her or Seth.  Rarely goes off by himself.

 

The tree stands in the same corner as always, decorated in strings of fairy lights, and Baby’s First Christmas ornaments.  Another, framed, documents Isaac’s first haircut, just a trim, because she and Seth could not bear to part with his tiny baby ringlets.

 

“There’s gonna be a day when he hates us for this picture, you know?” Seth had said, hanging it on the tree, fondly.  The photo shows tiny Isaac, seated in a giant salon waiting room chair, wrapped baby sucker in his hand (which Allie quickly exchanged for a toy Isaac chose, no choking hazards for her baby, thank you very much) and smiling, with a fresh haircut, just a little shorter.  

 

Somehow, it transformed him completely.

 

“Isaac Quinn, where are you?” Allie sing-songs, searching doorways.  Seth’s asleep, post Christmas feast, crashed out in their bedroom. But Isaac is nowhere to be found.  Allie’s had time to clear up the dishes from the meal and most of the Christmas mess without so much as a peep from her son.

 

Finally, she opens his bedroom door, and bites the inside of her lip to keep from laughing.  He cannot think this is cute. “Isaac. What is this?” she asks sternly.

 

It’s obvious what it is.  Isaac’s hands and face, his Christmas corduroy pants with a green tiny sweater are now caked with smears of Oreo cookie and red holiday Double Stuff.

 

“Cookie,” he says solemnly.  “Cookie, Mom?” he offers sweetly, offering her a slobbery, pulverized handful of what might have been a cookie five minutes ago.

 

“No, thank you.  Seriously, child,” she says, getting down next to him.  “How do you have room for more food? How?” she asks conversationally.

 

Isaac licks his hand.  “Mmm,” he nods, approving.

 

“That’s good, huh?” Allie asks, ruefully.

 

“Mmm- _ hmm _ ,” Isaac confirms.  

 

“Yeah.  Just wait til Daddy sees this…” Allie mutters under her breath hiding a smile.

 

Isaac grins, “Daddy!”

 

“Yeah.  Hey, Daddy?  Ike wants to show you something,” Allie calls.

 

Seth yawns in the next bedroom.  “He does, huh?” 

 

Just like Allie hopes, Seth comes stumbling into their baby’s room.  His eyes register the mess, ground into their son’s tan carpet.

 

“Guess who found the Oreos?” Allie offers weakly.

 

Seth is just barely keeping it together, but a snort escapes and he claps a hand over his mouth.  

 

“You can’t laugh at this.  He’s gonna think it’s okay,” Allie admonishes, but she can’t stop the stream of giggles that pour from her either.

 

Isaac offers Seth a handful of cookie, which Seth actually eats.

 

“Mm, thanks, Ike.  So good,” Seth says, smiling.

 

And Isaac smiles Allie’s most favorite smile he has.  The one that’s so huge, his little hazel eyes disappear, because he’s just so happy.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #3_ **

 

**_Monday, December 25, 2000_ **

 

This year, Christmas is different.  

 

It’s quieter.

 

Allie hadn’t even been sure she’d be up for celebrating.  Not since they’d lost Seth suddenly, earlier this month, in a motorcycle accident.  But Seth’s brothers have been here and were determined that Isaac shouldn’t miss out on Christmas, especially when he’s already missing his Dad.

 

So, even though everything feels heavy, and every memory has Seth in it, she has promised to lay low in the bedroom while Steve and Scott are busy “working on things” in the living room.

 

At two and a half, Isaac doesn’t know the house is usually decorated.  Today seems the same as any other day to him. A day where he persists in crashing his toy motorcycle repeatedly, trying to process something that just does not make any sense at all.

 

“Mommy?” Isaac asks.

 

“What?” Allie says, determined to smile for him today.

 

“Is Daddy done?” Isaac wonders, driving his motorcycle around the carpet.

 

“Done, what?” Allie asks.

 

“Being a angel?” Isaac asks seriously.

 

“No.  He lives there now. He can’t come back, sweetie.  I’m sorry.” Allie tells him.

 

“All set!” Steve calls from the living room.  “Bring him on out! Come on, Ikey!”

 

“NOT IKEY!” Isaac yells, indignant.

 

“What’s your name then?” Scott teases, from the living room, as Allie scoops up Isaac and carries him to the living room.

 

“Mom, say it,” Isaac tells Allie seriously.

 

“Say, ‘My name is Isaac,” Allie coaches.

 

“I’m Ike-it,” Isaac tries.

 

“Come on, let’s go see what Steve and Scott are doing.  Do you think they made a mess?”

 

“Guys!”  Isaac calls.  “You make a mess?”  They walk down the hall.  Down the steps. Around the corner.

 

Allie gasps.

 

“Ooh,” Isaac breathes.  

 

Seth’s brothers have, somehow, found a scrawny little tree and dragged out all of their ornaments and lights.  Their angel. And put it on top. There are presents underneath that Allie never bought.

 

“Mom!  Look! Tree!” Isaac insists, pointing.

 

“I know.  Isn’t it pretty?” Allie asks, kissing his squishy cheek.

 

“Mm-hm,” Isaac says quietly as they walk closer.  “I love it,” he whispers, reaching on hand out and pulling it back at the last second.

 

“You wanna touch the tree?  You can touch it,” Allie encourages.

 

Isaac gently strokes the sad pine needles with one finger.  The ones below where Isaac touched fall in a dry flutter to the carpet below.

 

“Uh-oh!  Broke it!” Isaac worries.

 

“No, you didn’t break it.  It’s okay. It’s just tired, that’s all.  It had a long day,” Allie says.

 

Just over three weeks since Seth died, and it still doesn’t feel real.  Allie wonders when that will change.

 

Allie sits, holding Ike close while he opens presents, exclaiming “WOW!” after each one.  Showing toys to her, and to his uncles with an excited, “Guys! Look at this!”

 

And Allie tries, because as sad as she is, she needs to be here for her son.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #4_ **

 

**_Tuesday, December 25, 2001_ **

 

Isaac is three and a half.  He likes Mommy and Dr. Seuss books and animals and singing songs.  And something else Isaac likes is Christmas.

 

He does not like Christmas clothes like his chokey shirt and shoes that pinch and pants that are too fancy and not good for playing.  Mom says he can wear regular clothes when they get home. She promises. She even says they can wear PJs all day tomorrow if they want to make up for awful dressing up clothes.

 

His favorite Christmas thing is presents.  But he also likes the tree. And visiting Daddy at his resting spot.  But he watches the Charlie Brown Christmas show on TV and he sees it. And in school they talk about it.

 

“Mom?  Why don’t we got snow?” Isaac wonders, in the car on the way to Uncle Steve and Aunt Meryl’s.

 

“Well...because it’s too warm here.  We can’t get snow because snow can only form if it gets cold.” 

 

“That’s so cool.  You know everything, Mom, right?” Isaac asks.

 

“Not even close,” Mom laughs, “But I’m always happy to talk to you about whatever you want to know.”

 

“Do you think we could ever make it?” Isaac asks, zooming his Rescue Hero around in his hands.

 

“Make what, Ike?”

 

“Snow!” Isaac says, exasperated.  “Like get cold enough to make snow?”

 

“I don’t know about that…” Mom says.

 

But when they get to Steve and Meryl’s, while they’re waiting for dinner, Mom lifts him up to their freezer, and opens the door.  

 

“See the white stuff in there?” Mom asks.

 

“It’s burning my hand with freeze!” Isaac exclaims.

 

“That’s snow.  That’s how cold it has to be to make it.  And that’s as close as Santa Barbara’s gonna come to seeing it. So enjoy it while you can.”

 

“I’m done enjoying,” Isaac tells her in a funny shivery voice.

 

Mom thinks he’s done about snow, but when they’re in the car on the way back, Isaac asks: “Mom?  What if we made warm snow?”

 

Mom smiles.  “Isaac, you’ve already seen a bunch of warm snow.  When snow gets warm, it melts into water.”

 

“Nah-uh!” Isaac insists.  “So, my bath is snow???”

 

“No.  Well, maybe.  Heated, and melted, and cleaned.  But yes, technically.” Mom says.

 

“What’s technically?” Isaac asks.

 

“It means...people don’t usually think of it like that...but I guess it’s true.”

 

“Dad’s technically here,” Isaac says, trying out the new word.  “People don’t usually think of him like that. But he is.”

 

Mom is quiet for a while.  Then she says, “I think you’re right.  I think you’re really right.”

 

“Thanks,” Isaac smiles.  “For saying that nice thing to me.”

 

“Isaac, I’m your mom.  It’s my favorite thing to say nice things to you, because you are my favorite person.”

 

Isaac falls asleep to Christmas music on the radio, and his mom singing along.  

 

Everything is its most perfect way.


	2. Chapter 2

**_CHRISTMAS #5_ **

 

**_Wednesday, December 25, 2002_ **

 

When Isaac is four and a half, he wakes up on Christmas hoping God did some magic with Daddy and together they made some snow to give Isaac.

 

He rubs his eyes and sits up in his race car bed and looks around.  Goes to the window.

 

Darn it.  Just grass.

 

“Good try,” he tells Daddy, the same way Daddy told Isaac in all the videos of them together.

 

Isaac goes out to see if Mommy’s awake yet. 

 

She’s waiting at the table.  “Ready for Christmas?” she asks.

 

Isaac nods.  “Yeah, except the tree’s still sleeping,” he points to their Christmas tree, with all its lights off.

 

“You’re right,” Mommy says and she goes to wake it up.

 

Isaac smiles.  It smells piney and  _ delicioso _ like Dora the Explorer says.

 

Then they have to wait for two hours for Steve and Meryl to come over.  Mommy tries to distract Isaac with the giant 100-piece animal puzzle that he got to open last night.  The problem is, both of them are great at puzzles and they finish before Steve and Meryl even get there.

 

They drink hot cocoa with marshmallows and eat fresh cinnamon rolls (Isaac loves the  _ pop _ the can makes.) He loves watching them grow in the oven and spread their warmy smell all over the apartment.  He helps put the frosting on and only eats a little bit when Mommy isn’t looking.

 

Finally after forever waiting, Steve knocks on the door, one-two-three-four-five, one-two.  That’s how Isaac knows it’s them.

 

But guess what?  It’s not Uncle Steve.  It’s  _ Santa. _

 

(How even does Santa know how to knock just like Uncle Steve?)

 

Isaac’s mouth falls open as Santa walks in going  _ “Ho ho ho!” _

 

He sits right in Daddy’s chair, Mrs. Claus following right behind him with the biggest wrapped thing Isaac has ever seen.

 

“Weren’t you just here?  At night?” Isaac asks, when he can finally find his words.

 

“Well, Santa has a special delivery for…” (Isaac’s heart beats fast - say me, say me, say me…)  Santa takes a long time reading a long scrolly paper with  **THE NICE LIST** at the top.  “...Isaac Martin!”

 

Isaac gasps, “That’s me!”

 

“Well, Santa knows you’ve been a very nice boy this year, and he wanted to bring you something special.  Honey?” he says to Mrs. Claus.

 

She sets the wrapped thing down.

 

Isaac feels shy all of a sudden and checks with Mommy, to be sure it’s okay.

 

“Go ahead and open it up,” she encourages smiling,

 

So, Isaac rips the paper off of a big box and takes the lid off.

 

And guess what?

 

A real, live puppy is inside!  He’s barking high and licking Isaac.  He’s the same color as Isaac’s bedroom carpet and fluffy like the Easter bunny.

 

Isaac lifts the puppy out and cuddles him, feelings growing huger inside him until they block his whole throat.  Until they make his eyes cry.

 

“Aw…” Mommy says.  “Are you okay?”

 

Isaac nods, still crying, burying his face in the puppy’s fur.

 

“Are you so happy?” she asks.

 

“Yes…” he sobs.  

 

Santa and Mrs. Claus leave and Isaac says thank you.

 

That night, Mom and Isaac are thinking about names for the puppy.  Isaac knows just what he wants the dog to be called.

 

“Mommy, listen.  I got the perfect name, are you ready?” Isaac asks, holding a toy for the puppy to bite.

 

“Okay, tell me.” 

 

“ _ Daddy _ ,” Isaac says, beaming.  “‘Cause he sent me a puppy.  I know. So I wouldn’t be so lonely.”

 

“You’re lonely?” Mommy asks.

 

“Well...just sometimes, I’m lonely.  Sometimes, I’m peopley.” Isaac explains.

 

“Ah…” Mommy answers.  “Well, I think Daddy’s a great name, but I have a suggestion.  Want to hear it?”

 

“Yeah!” Isaac nods.

 

“So...Daddy’s name was Seth Charles Martin.  So, what do you think about Charles, for the puppy’s name?”

 

“Like Charlie Brown?” Isaac checks.

 

“Yeah, kind of,” Mom nods.

 

“Okay, Charles is his name,” Isaac nods.  He turns his attention back to the puppy. “I love you, Charles,” he says, testing it out.

 

Charles licks him on the cheek.

 

“He likes that name,” Isaac tells Mommy.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #6_ **

 

**_Thursday, December 25, 2003_ **

 

Wanna know something?  

 

Mom gets sad at Christmas.  It’s because she thinks about Daddy then since his angel day is when it’s Christmastime.

 

It’s okay to be sad when you’re sad.  Isaac knows that, because he’s five and a half and, because Mom tells him all the time.  Cry when you’re sad and when you’re done, be happy again.

 

Sometimes, Ike really wants a bigger family and sometimes he thinks his family of Mom, him and Charles is the best.  

 

Charles is growing and learning.  He rings the bell on the door handle when he has to go potty so he doesn’t pee inside anymore.  Mostly. That’s good. (Isaac is growing and learning, too. He loves reading and songs from school.)

 

Part of why he likes his family is that they talk about stuff and come up with plans and adventures to do.

 

This year, Mom and Isaac decided to do Thanksmas, which was back in November when Steve, Meryl, Scott and his little cousin, Bee.  (Her whole name is Beatrice, but Isaac just calls her Bee, like a bee, for short, even though she doesn’t sting.) 

 

That way, Christmas is more like a regular day, and they don’t really have to decorate that much and do things that make Mom sad.

 

The movie  _ Elf _ came out before and Isaac really wants to see it.  So he and Mom made a planventure to go see it on Christmas Day.

 

It’s the best movie.  Definitely, the funniest one Isaac’s ever seen.  Plus, they get to wear regular clothes and eat popcorn and drink soda.

 

People ask at school if he misses celebrating for real, on actual Christmas, but he doesn’t, really.  He still gets presents. And his family still loves him.

 

Those are the most important things in life.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #7_ **

 

**_Saturday, December 25, 2004_ **

 

When Isaac is six and a half, he wakes up on real Christmas (after Thanksmas) and feels awful.  Even worse than the sick feeling is the feeling that they were gonna go to the parade today and now Isaac doesn’t even want to.

 

The thought of eating candy makes his tummy hurt.

 

Charles is there, snoring on him.  That helps a little, but Isaac still starts crying.

 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mom wonders, hearing the noise.

 

“The parade!” Isaac sobs.

 

“What?” Mom asks, confused.

 

Isaac opens his mouth to answer, but an answer doesn’t come out.  He’s grossly sick instead. He feels chilly, like he’s gonna freeze to death in the tub.  

 

“We’ll still go to the parade,” Mom says, helping him lie down in the living room on the hide-a-bed.  She brings him Sprite and soda crackers to eat and lets him watch PBS kids shows all morning, and Disney ones after that.

 

“Will I still be six?” Isaac asks, teeth chattering as he cuddles close to Mom.

 

“When, sweetie?” Mom asks, stroking his hair.

 

“When we go to the parade?”

 

“Well...you might be seven,” Mom admits.  “It’s a holiday parade, so it only comes at the holidays. Is that okay?”

 

“Yeah,” Isaac sighs.  “I really wanted to go this year, though…”

 

“I know you did.  But the important thing is that you rest and watch TV until you feel better, okay?”

 

“Do Moms get sick?” Isaac wonders.

 

“Sure, we do,” Mom nods.

 

“But who will take care of me?” Isaac worries.  “If you’re sick?”

 

“Well, Meryl and Steve, or Uncle Scott.  You have a lot of options.”

 

“But you’re my favorite option,” Isaac decides, settling against her.  “So, I’ll try not to breathe on you.”

 

“Thanks, bud.  But you breathe normally, okay?  I’ll survive.”

 

“Okay.  You know?  This isn’t so bad of a Christmas,” Isaac admits.

 

“I agree.  Cuddling with you definitely puts it at the top of all my Christmases.” Mom says.

 

Isaac smiles a little, covers himself all up with blankets and falls asleep to  _ Arthur  _ on TV.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #8_ **

 

**_Sunday, December 25, 2005_ **

 

Just like Mom promised, when Isaac is seven and a half, they go to the holiday parade.  Ike’s been imagining it in his mind for a whole year, and it’s everything he thought it would be.

 

It wasn’t exactly on Christmas, but neither was Thanksmas, and that still counts.  The parade was full of awesome lights, lots of Girl Scout and Boy Scout troops and high school kids from Santa Barbara.  Plus a ginormous snowman and Santa float.

 

“Mom, what was your favorite part of the parade?” Isaac asks, coloring at the table.  Now that he’s seven, Mom lets him drink coffee like a real adult. Isaac knows he’s not really one yet, but he just likes the taste.  No sugar, no milk. 

 

They’re in their PJs because that’s the best way to celebrate Christmas.  Isaac never would have discovered it except last year, he was sick, and he didn’t feel like getting dressed at all.  So that’s how he found out. Mom likes PJ days, too.

 

It wakes him up great for the whole day long.

 

“Spending time with you,” she answers, just like Isaac knew she would.

 

He laughs.  “Mom, I know, but the part of the parade.  What part of that was your favorite?”

 

“Well, I thought the lights were pretty.  What about you?” she asks.

 

“I liked the Santa float,” Isaac said.  “Remember when Santa and Mrs. Claus came right here to this house and brought me Charles?” Ike asks, petting the dog with his bare feet under the table.

 

“That was a special day, wasn’t it?”

 

“Was it really Santa, Mom?” Isaac asks.

 

“What do you think?” Mom wonders back.

 

“I don’t know...a lot of kids at school say Santa’s not real.  Because how can one guy get to everybody in the world in one night?  Especially with time zones? And what if..like us… We live somewhere with no chimney, so how does he get in?”

 

“How do you suppose?” Mom asks.

 

“Magic, I thought…” Isaac admits.

 

“You thought?  You’re not so sure if you believe in magic anymore?” Mom asks, concerned.

 

“Well, it doesn’t really make sense…” Isaac says quietly.  “You know like,  _ science _ ly.”

 

“Scientifically?” Mom asks.

 

“Yeah.  Do you still like me even though I might not believe in magic anymore, Mom?”

 

“Isaac, I love you no matter what.  Even if you don’t believe in magic. Besides, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

 

Isaac sets his coffee cup that’s in the shape of a Santa hat down and leans across the table.  “What?”

 

“A lot of people believe that the true magic of Christmas lies in giving to those you love.  Showing them you love them.”

 

“Are you mad I never got you a gift?” Isaac wonders.

 

“Not one bit.  You _ are _ a gift, buddy.”

 

Isaac ducks his head and smiles.  “Imagine if I came wrapped and everything and you found me under the tree…”

 

“Kind of unlikely for a May birthday…” Mom teases gently.

 

“I know, but if I had my wish, I’d be born on Christmas.  It’s my favorite day, you know. Not Thanksmas. Just like regular Christmas.”

 

“Why?  The tree?  Presents?” Mom asks.

 

Isaac shrugs.

 

“Nah…  Just us.  Being a family together.”  Isaac pauses, biting his lip.  He has to be careful about bringing up too many sad things at Christmas.  But he still really wants to know this. “Mom? Do you think Dad can see us?”

 

“I do,” Mom nods.

 

“Do you think...Dad would be okay with me not believing in magic anymore?” Isaac ventures.

 

“Dad would want you to believe whatever you felt in your heart was true,” Mom reassures.  “He loves you, just the same.”

 

Isaac lets out a big sigh of relief.

 

Sometimes, it’s like Mom can read his mind.

 

“If I still want to believe in Santa even though I kind of know better, could I?” Isaac asks.

 

“I would love that,” Mom smiles.  “Because I love knowing you’re doing what makes you happy.”

 

“Okay,” Isaac says, sipping his coffee.  “This really does.”


	3. Chapter 3

**_CHRISTMAS #9_ **

 

**_Monday, December 25, 2006_ **

 

“Mom?  I don’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything...but it’s kinda boring…” Isaac ventures.  He’s getting too old for coloring. He’s in third grade now, and he wants to do third grade things.

 

“Well, we already went over to see Scott and Bee, and Steve and Meryl and the new baby.  We watched a Christmas movie… What else do you wanna do?”

 

“It’s not even fair about the Christmas movies though, Mom.   _ The Santa Clause  _ has snow in it.  Basically every single Christmas movie has snow in it.  Why can’t we live somewhere where there’s snow?” Isaac grumbles.

 

Mom sighs.  “Ike, do you remember how quickly you were over snow after you touched the inside of Steve’s freezer?” 

 

Isaac is totally confused.  “No. What are you talking about?”

 

“You’ve been wanting snow here ever since you were three years old,” Mom laughs.  

 

“So, you should get me some, then.  Charles would like it, wouldn’t you, Charles?” Isaac asks.

 

Charles whines and pees a little, because he gets excited when humans talk to him.  The peeing is his worst habit, but Isaac loves him.

 

“See, he’d like it,” Isaac nods.  

 

“One day, Isaac…” Mom says, and Isaac can’t tell if she’s annoyed or kidding.

 

“One day, what?” he asks.

 

“One day, I’ll figure out a way for us to see snow on Christmas,” Mom says.

 

“Or at least close, right?” Isaac insists.  “Promise?”

 

“It’s a promise,” Mom insists.  They shake on it. Even Charles does.

 

“So, Mom, can I go to Asher’s?”

 

“Honey, I know it’s not really a holiday for our family, but other families are celebrating today.”

 

“Not Asher’s.  They’re Jewish.  And Hanukkah ended two days ago.  So, he’s not doing anything, and he asked if I could play.  Please? You already met him. And his parents. And you said they were really nice, remember?”

 

“Yes, I remember,” (Isaac can tell she’s about to give in.  Yes…) “Do you need me to drive you?” Mom asks.

 

“It’s down the sidewalk and around the corner.  You can basically watch me from the window the entire time,” he bargains.  (If he tells Mom this, maybe she will stay inside and not be embarrassing, and, like, come with him.)

 

“You have good manners.  And you call me if you want to come home early.  And I want you home before dark.”

 

“Okay,” Isaac answers, grabbing a jacket and Charles’s leash.  Isaac and Ash usually play outside, and Charles will like that.  “Thanks, Mom. Bye. Love you.”

 

Isaac leaves the house and feels super adult now, walking to Asher’s all alone.  Mom’s totally watching from the window, but it’s okay. 

 

It kinda makes him feel better, knowing she’s there.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #10_ **

 

**_Tuesday, December 25, 2007_ **

 

It’s the best new tradition ever, getting to play with Asher on Christmas Day.  This has been his second year in a row of doing it.

 

Mostly, they play outside and then they come in to play video games and play with all of Asher’s army men.  They set up a huge battle. Even though Ike’s a lover, not a fighter, it’s cool to have somebody else to play with, instead of having to be all the people himself.

 

Asher’s side (green) wins the war.  Ike’s side (tan) loses. Then, they build a real, actual city with Asher’s millions of Legos.  They play until they lose track of time.

 

When Isaac finally realizes it’s after 5:00 and it’s getting dark, he rushes out to get his jacket.  He finds Mom drinking coffee at the table with Asher’s mom, Rachel. Ike hadn’t even heard her come in.

 

“Well, hey guys.  Sounded like you had a good game going in there,” Mom says.

 

“We did,” Asher beams.

 

“Yeah, sorry, I forgot about the sun.  Setting, and stuff,” Isaac apologizes.

 

“No problem, that’s why I came,” Mom says.  “You two can go back and play. Rachel and I are just catching up.”

 

Ike and Asher look at each other, and huge grins break over their faces:

 

“Awesome!” Asher says.

 

“Come on!  I know just where to put the Lego alligator!” Ike exclaims.

 

When they’re done, they call their moms in.  Mom loves their city so much she takes a picture of it on her phone.  Isaac feels really proud.

 

“Thank you for having me,” Isaac says, like he always does - just like Mom says herself.

 

“Isaac, you are always welcome,” Rachel says, giving him a hug, after Asher says bye.  “Asher loves having a friend he can play with on Christmas. Most are busy.”

 

“We’re not.  Are we, Mom?” Isaac asks.

 

“Nope.  “We’re always free on Christmas.  See you later! Thanks!” Mom calls.

 

On the way home, Isaac tells Mom about all the stuff they did.

 

“Charles missed us, I’m sure,” Mom muses.

 

“Yeah, did you put him in the kitchen in case he pees?” Isaac asks.

 

“I did. He was not too happy with me, I can tell you that,” Mom sends a sad smile Isaac’s way.

 

“Oh well, he’ll be happy again soon.  Thanks for letting me stay longer,” Isaac says.

 

“Of course, honey.  But it is really important that you keep track of the time.  Call if you’re going to be late. So I don’t worry.”

 

“With what?  I don’t have a cell phone,” Isaac points out.

 

“Very funny, smart guy.  You are nine years old. You don’t need a cell phone.  The Blumbergs have a landline you can use.”

 

Isaac sighs.  “Okay...you know I had to try…”

 

“I know.  Middle school’s only a couple years away.  You can hold out for that long.”

 

“If I have to,” Isaac offers a small smile.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #11_ **

 

**_Thursday, December 25, 2008_ **

 

Isaac is way let down on the Christmas he’s ten and a half.  He’d been planning all the stuff he and Ash would do together when they hung out but then Asher told him right before holiday break that Hanukkah did the thing it did every so often and fell on Christmas.

 

So that means no epic wars with the army men.  No plans to make Lego City even bigger this year.  No playing in the yard.

 

He’s stuck in the tiny apartment with Mom and nothing to do.

 

“Cheer up, Isaac.  You’ll be able to go next year,” Mom says.

 

“Yeah, like I’ll be able to see _ snow  _ next year?” he pouts.  “Those things are never happening.”

 

“We are seeing snow next year, and that’s a promise.  I’ve been saving for a few years. And by next Christmas, we’ll definitely have enough for trip.”

 

“Seriously?” Isaac asks.  “Where are we going?”

 

“South Lake Tahoe,” Mom tells him.  “It’ll be a long drive, around eight hours there and eight hours back.  But in between? Two days. Tons of snow. We can go sledding or for a sleigh ride.”

 

“Or skiing!  Do they have snowmobiles?”

 

“Not for children and nervous moms,” Mom tells him, smiling.

 

“This is really happening, though?  For real? Because I wanna make mark it on the calendar for next year.  Start counting down the days. Start saving my own money.” At Mom’s questioning look, Ike elaborates, “For souvenirs.”

 

“Right,” Mom laughs, and seems really happy.  “Oh, I wish your dad could see you. He’d be so proud.”

 

“Are  _ you _ ?” Isaac asks, flipping to December, 2009 and circling Sunday, December 20 through Thursday, December 24 on Mom’s brand new  _ Top Chef _ wall calendar.  

 

“Isaac, look at me,” Mom says.

 

He does, waiting.

 

“I am so proud of you.  You’re a great kid. You’re kind and you care about other people.  You take care of Charles without being asked. I am so proud of you.”

 

Isaac looks away, unsure of what to say, so he looks at the calendar again.  With all the dates circled in red.

 

“I can’t wait for next December,” Isaac tells her, and he curls up with Mom on the couch to watch all the episodes Mom DVRd of  _ Emeril Live _ !

 

“It’ll be a long drive, but a fun trip, that’s for sure,” Mom says.

 

“This is almost like the olden days, huh?” Isaac asks, his head in Mom’s lap.  “Remember back when I got so sick?”

 

“If the olden days are four years ago, I am in trouble…” Mom remarks lightly, stroking Isaac’s hair.  “I know it’s not cool, and it’s not what you wanted this year, but I do love hanging out with you.”

 

“Yeah, me, too.  You know, if Asher’s busy…” Isaac teases.  

 

Then, they wait for it...wait for it...and say: “BAM!” together, exactly when Emeril does.

 

It’s their thing.  Just him and Mom. He hasn’t told Asher or anybody else, but he’s kinda getting into cooking shows.

 

**_CHRISTMAS #12_ **

 

**_Friday, December 25, 2009_ **

 

The South Lake Tahoe trip is awesome.  

 

The snow is like a postcard.  All fluffy and drifty and stuff.  Totally worth the (seriously) eight-hour drive in the car to even get there.

 

Isaac and mom go sledding on big hills.  They make a mega snowman. They even go on a sleigh ride (in a real sleigh) the last night.  And they get to warm up really good in between in the lodge by the fire with hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows.  Mom even brings him a candy cane to use as a stir stick.

 

But the best part is just playing out in the snow with Mom.  It’s the first time ever Isaac gets to do all the things he’s seen in movies:

 

He makes a snow angel.  Catches snowflakes in his mouth.  Looks at it up close. It looks as close to real magic as he’s ever seen, and all of a sudden it makes sense how people are always saying Christmas is magical.  Since snow is such a big part of Christmas, and it’s amazing seeing all the shapes each different flake is.

 

Mom takes pictures, and Isaac doesn’t mind.

 

They drive home on Christmas Eve and there’s a ton of traffic but Mom has to work tomorrow.  

 

Luckily, Hanukkah is back to falling not on Christmas Day, so Ike can get back to Asher’s house.  Before he leaves, Mom is totally hyper asking if he has his phone (sixth grade now, just like she promised).  She makes him swear he’ll be in back in this apartment before it even starts getting dark. And she’ll be home at 7:00 so they can hang out the rest of the night.

 

“Call if you’re gonna be late.  Call if you need anything, Ike, I mean it.”

 

“I will,” Isaac promises.  “I’ll be fine. I’ll be at Asher’s like I am every year.”

 

He looks back once, on his way out the door.

 

“Bye, Mom.  Love you.”

 

“Love you more, Isaac.  Have fun.”

 

He waves and lets the door close behind him.

 

At Asher’s, things are changing.  They’re older now, so Ash doesn’t want to play with his army men or build cities anymore.  He wants to talk about girls at school.

 

Rachel has to go run errands and offers to take Ike home, but Asher begs so that Isaac can stay.

 

They watch Jim Carrey as  _ The Grinch _ and it’s hilarious.  But it’s the worst, too, because when it’s done, Isaac checks his phone, and it’s 5:51.  Definitely dark, and Rachel is still gone. 

 

“I really have to go, or my mom will be freaking out,” Isaac says.

 

“I can go with you,” Asher offers.  

 

“I’m not supposed to have friends over when Mom’s not home.  But I’ll see you at school.”

 

Isaac walks out of Asher’s house and into the dark.  He thinks about the great trip him and Mom had. He thinks about everything he’s gonna get to tell all his friends at school.  About getting to call and text all his friends on his brand new cell phone. 

 

(It makes him think about being late and what Mom said about calling, but he’ll practically be there in no time.  It’d be mean to call her now. Have her get all worked up over nothing.)

 

This really has been the best Christmas ever.  

 

He just has to get home so Mom doesn’t worry.

 

Ike can see the apartments, all lit up in the distance.

 

He’ll get in and make sure to be all ready on the couch with the TV on for them to watch  _ Emeril _ .

 

She’ll never have to know he was even gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**_CHRISTMAS #13_ **

 

**_Tuesday, December 25, 2018_ **

 

_ Isaac is here. _

 

_ In the apartment. _

 

_ He fell asleep watching Emeril, just like he planned. _

 

_ It’s Christmas.  Isaac’s favorite.  He’s eleven.  _

 

_ (It’s the best thing about being where Ike is now, according to his dad.  You don’t age. So you just live on looking like the best possible version of yourself. _

 

_ Not like whatever broke you.) _

 

_ Mom is asleep in her bed.  Someone else in the bed with her.   _

 

_ (Good.  She’s not alone.) _

 

_ A dog is at the foot of the bed.  Small. A terrier or something. It perks up as Charles barks at Isaac’s side and pees on the hardwood floor. _

 

_ “Charles…” Isaac reprimands lightly.  “Can’t you, like, keep it together for two seconds while we see how Mom is?” _

 

_ The giant golden retriever at his side stops peeing.  Magic.  _

 

_ The terrier still yips, staring right at them. _

 

_ “Would you tell Mom’s dog to knock it off?” Ike mumbles to Charles.  “It’s gonna wake her up.” _

 

_ Charles woofs, low, a warning. _

 

_ The terrier lies down, pouting, head on its paws.  It doesn’t take its eyes from them, though. _

 

_ Ike knows he has to make this quick.  His gaze travels over the room, until it lights on Mom’s bedside table, on the note there.  The one his friend had sent, after all.  _

 

_ She got it. _

 

_ Isaac breathes a huge sigh of relief. _

 

_ He walks up on her side of the bed.  Sits. The bed gives. _

 

_ Mom stirs.  “Isaac?” she mumbles, still asleep. _

 

_ “It’s me, Mom.” _

 

_ He touches her hand.  It’s warm. Real. Solid. _

 

_ “Are you coming back?” Mom mutters, still talking in her sleep.   _

 

_ “Yes,” Isaac promises.  “I’m coming back.” _

 

_ He stands.  Just at the doorway, glancing back into the room.  “Dad wants to come next time. He says hey.” _

 

_ Isaac returns to the couch.  Sits a while. The TV flickers in front of him.  Stopping on this Christmas movie and that one. And finally, on The Food Network.   _

 

_ No, this is different.  The Cooking Channel? Whoa...what’s this? _

 

_ (Unique Sweets... No way, he _ has  _ to tell Dad about this…)   _

 

_ The TV light flickers.  The screen fades to black. _

 

_ \-- _

 

Allie Martin wakes up to a sunbeam falling across the bed, in the empty space she could swear her son just filled, the sounds of The Cooking Channel inexplicably echoing in her head.

 

It’s been years since she’s seen Isaac, but he remained so unchanged.  So just exactly how she remembered him.

 

A scent lingers in the air - distinctly Ike.  Sweat and dirt and sunshine.

 

And Allie knows.

 

He was here.

 

She takes comfort in knowing that someday, he’ll be back.

 

That someday, they’ll all be together again.


End file.
